Chloe has fallen asleep on her.
Beca realises this after Chloe is quiet for a solid ten minutes, notices her breathing has become shallow and even. Can feel the hand that had been lightly gripping at Beca's shirt has slackened. She can't see her face but Beca has witnessed a slumbering Chloe enough times to imagine it; features relaxed, lips slightly parted. Adorable, in a word.
She can't reach her phone to check the time and is unable to see the clock on the wall behind her, so she lies there in the dim light, Chloe sandwiched between herself and the couch, as the seconds tick by unaccounted for. Finds herself thinking about what Aubrey had said earlier, hundreds of miles away and yet still able to slap Beca hard enough to make it feel like she was right there in the room with her.
"So, there are emotions to be managed here?"
"I think you two should talk."
"At least think it over."
It feels like years since Beca has thought about anything else. Feels like she could spend more years still thinking about Chloe and every 'what if' imaginable, but that isn't what Aubrey had meant.
"You need to figure your shit out."
Beca rolls her eyes at the idea of Aubrey sitting high and mighty on her throne of Relationship Navigation Perfection after one kiss with Jesse but manages to envy her at the same time. Because at least Aubrey had kissed Jesse with crystal clear intent. At least she'd kissed him knowing exactly what she wanted, without that annoying haze of confusion blurring the brightly painted yellow lines that dictated what side of the road she should be on. The last thing Beca wanted was to drift into oncoming traffic and cause a wreck.
The question is, will she let that fear stop her from driving altogether?
Or will she sit safely strapped into the driver's seat and navigate the roads as carefully as she can, take the chance that she might get lost or side-swiped but be comforted by the knowledge that there are all kinds of belts and airbags in place to stop any long-lasting damage. There may be whiplash, things might be stiff and sore for a while, but she'd be okay eventually.
She just needs to turn the key in the ignition and take the risk.
Which is terrifying because Beca completely failed Driver's Ed.
She sighs and lifts the hand she'd rested above Chloe's on her stomach to rub a forefinger and thumb into the corners of her eyes. She honestly hates thinking about things too deeply at stupid hours of the night, everything in her brain gets too metaphor-y for her liking and she will, more often than not, come out on the other side more confused than when she went in.
So, resolutely deciding to shut her brain off, Beca drops her hand back down and closes her eyes against the arm of the couch.
And if her hand happens to land half on top of Chloe's, well, it's not like she can control the pull of gravity.
The next time Beca opens her eyes, it is to the sight of a curtain of red hair swaying slightly as Chloe lifts her head and looks around the room. She catches Beca's gaze and smiles at her, sleepy and sheepish, flexing every muscle in her body it seems as she stretches alongside Beca, pressing into her and causing her to swallow reflexively. When Chloe relaxes again, she's maneuvered her body so that she's half sprawled over Beca, resting her hand just below Beca's shoulder and then her chin on top of her knuckles, looking up at her.
"Sorry." Chloe's voice is rough from sleep and Beca tries to ignore the way it vibrates along every knob of her spine. Tries to suppress the shudder it causes.
"Enjoy your nap?" Beca's attempt at a teasing tone falls flat as her own voice comes out sounding somewhat close to Chloe's.
"Did you?" Chloe shoots back with a wide smile, the hand that had been closed tightly around Beca's shirt unfurling to lie flat against Beca's stomach as it drifts across to curve around her ribcage. Beca manages to catch the sharp inhale before it escapes, sucks it back down and covers it over with a cough that clears her throat.
"Would have been better in bed." Beca closes her eyes, touches the knotted muscles at the base of her skull, and gives Chloe a pointed look when she feels the redhead laughing against her. "Is your mind just, like, permanently in the gutter?"
"Hard for it to be anywhere else with you underneath me." Blue eyes sparkle at Beca, bright even though so recently extricated from sleep.
"Maybe you should get off then," Beca challenges, then abruptly presses her lips into a thin line and brings a hand up, twisting it at the wrist to cover Chloe's mouth before she can speak. "Shut up." There's the typical amount of Beca-bite to the warning but it lacks malice and the hard gaze she trains on Chloe, she knows, is likely betrayed by soft eyes.
Because how could they look at Chloe any other way?
Chloe giggles, moving her head away and burying it into Beca's side.
"You're no fun," Chloe says a minute later, pouting as she pulls herself away from Beca and sits up. Beca follows suit, using the couch cushions to haul herself upright.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we've been over how that isn't true a few times already." Beca stretches, pushing her arms towards the ceiling to work out a kink in her shoulder, and tries to ignore the way Chloe's attention, already unabashedly fixed on her, seems to intensify. Travel south to where Beca's shirt has probably ridden up to expose skin.
It's a dangerous place to be, here alone in the dark with Chloe. A lot of things can happen under the cover of shadows, the kinds of things that the light of day can't touch. Can't find to poke and prod at, to raise questions over. And so they remain hidden in the darkness, like secrets only she knows how to find.
But Chloe's proven herself to be pretty good at finding things too, and she demonstrates that by reaching forward and brushing her fingers along that strip of skin Beca had been wondering about. Beca's right hand, the one she'd used to pull herself up, clutches at the cushion beneath it and her body goes still as stone as she holds herself almost painfully rigid.
"I guess we have," Chloe muses, quietly, her eyes trained on her own hand as it moves back and forth over Beca's stomach. "And you proved it again in Copenhagen." She sighs and there's something behind it that Beca can't quite make out. But then Chloe is leaning in towards her again, pushing her hand further up Beca's shirt and urging her back down onto the couch cushions. Gently, giving Beca the time and ability to refuse Chloe's force and gravity's pull, but really, why would she? "That," Chloe says once Beca is horizontal again and she bites down on her lower lip in a way that makes Beca eternally grateful that she's already lying down. "Was fun."
Fun, Beca thinks, isn't quite the word for it. At least, not for her. No, her word would have much more gravitas. It would be big, revelationary, like the moment itself. Although there had been more than just that one. She's not sure she'd have words for all of them.
She's saved from having to go looking by Chloe, who is once again stretching herself across Beca's length, only this time she's looming over her, eyes twin storms in the darkness, and Beca curls both of her hands into tight fists, squeezing hard enough to hurt as Chloe resettles herself.
"I've been thinking." Chloe lightly drags her nails over Beca's stomach before removing her hand and Beca's own bite harder into her palms. Chloe wedges a knee between Beca's leg and the back of the couch and then, all at once, her hands are gripping the armrest on either side of Beca's head and she's nudging Beca's thighs apart with her other knee. Settling it between them when Beca reflexively parts her legs, allowing Chloe closer. Chloe, who stops everything to hum her approval at the contact and the sound winds through Beca like unruly lightning.
It's as she closes her eyes that she remembers a similar situation, positions reversed, and it seems so long ago because they've come so far since that reckless evening. But it also feels like no time has passed at all, because right now, Beca feels the exact same as she had back then. All hot excitement and desperate wanting, a little breathless, a little unfocused.
A little bit in love.
Even then.
With Chloe moaning and moving beneath her as Beca urged her on. Urged her closer, without conscious comprehension of where they were going to end up. Which had been Chloe coming undone against her.
The difference now is that Beca's been thinking, too. Beca has been thinking a lot, enough to make herself inch towards crazy, and after that night in Copenhagen, after Aubrey's phone call, after everything, Beca's shit has started figuring itself out. Maybe it had started weeks ago and she just hadn't noticed. Hadn't wanted to see the pieces falling together.
But she sees them now, forming their jigsaw puzzle picture.
She sees them and she wants to look. Wants to take in every detail, every colour, wants to run her fingers over the flat landscape of it and feel where every piece fits together. But she also wants to make sure it stays together. Neat and tidy, far away from any chance of it being upset, overturned, and broken apart.
Beca supposes this is how it's been from the beginning. That now is no different from then, except for the thinking.
She'd been moving through things blindly for a while. Going with the flow, telling herself this was all for Chloe. She'd let Chloe lead her through this, had listened when Chloe had told her that, "It's okay," and then Beca had simply believed her.
Because Chloe doesn't lie.
Now, though, there's an abundance of thinking, almost too much, and Beca can't keep pretending that she's blind anymore. It's become impossible to ignore the things creeping into her periphery, the floating squiggles of feelings, and the pinpricks of light that are so blinding, she sometimes has to close her eyes against the brightness.
She's opening them again now, looking up into Chloe's face and thinking how crazy it is that they're here, in this place of intimacy, that it's been so easy. And, most of all, how it doesn't actually seem that crazy at all if Beca thinks about it.
"Oh?" Beca finds her voice hidden under a heavy stone, the weight of it pressing it thin, turning it quiet. Chloe's nodding, the tips of her hair tickling Beca's cheeks as they're curtained off from the rest of the world for a while.
"Yeah," Chloe breathes and Beca feels the leg between hers shift. Feels the solid pressure of a knee pressing into her for just a second and bites back on the sound that tries to leave her as her hands fly to grip handfuls of the too-large sweater Chloe is wearing. She fights to keep her eyes open and feels a rush of warmth spread through her when she sees Chloe smirking at her efforts.
"About-" Her words shatter into a gasping moan, surprise letting the thing burst free without a care as Chloe presses into her again and stays there this time. Firm and unmoving, and if Beca's body reacts, if her hips jerk a little and her eyelids flutter at the feeling that creates, that's fine.
Chloe doesn't seem to mind.
"I thought, maybe," Chloe pauses, rocking gently with an unmistakable purpose and drawing another strangled sound from Beca. "I could return the favour." Chloe offers, as if this is about paying someone back for giving you a ride. Which, okay, bad example. "Fair's fair, right?"
Spinning, though her head may be, Beca is able to gather enough focus to identify the two separate threads travelling within Chloe's words. The first one spun by lust, pulling taut around the words and squeezing until desire spills out like ink across paper. The second spun by hesitation and fear, though expertly veiled, and binding her body in place, refusing to let her go until Beca used her permission to cut the thread.
She's distantly aware of the way her hands are clutching at Chloe's sweater, flexing and relaxing, tugging without intent. Tugging because if she doesn't keep her hands occupied in a safe zone, she isn't sure where they'll end up.
"Beca," Chloe whispers her name like a song, leaning down to touch her lips to the shell of Beca's ear as she speaks and pressing their bodies together in a way that makes Beca's toes curl. Makes her back arch, ever so slightly, seeking more.
The pattern of her breathing has become uneven, sharp inhales followed by slow releases and vice versa. And it's crazy, she thinks, not for the first time, that Chloe can make her feel like this so quickly. But then, she's been quite skilled in this area for as long as Beca has known her, so maybe she shouldn't be all that surprised.
It's crazy, she thinks, that they're in the middle of the living room with Stacie sleeping - she hopes - right above them and she's barely restraining herself from grinding down against her best friend's leg.
Chloe's breath on her neck isn't helping. The way she's nuzzling her nose into the spot just below the curve of Beca's jaw isn't helping either. And the memories of her hand covering Chloe's as she worked herself towards an orgasm with Beca right there beside her, doing the very same, are, undoubtedly, making a number of things difficult. Possibly also trying to drive her crazy.
She isn't sure whether it's the kiss Chloe burns into her neck, tongue rolling over smooth skin, or if it's the way Chloe's own hips rock into her, looking for friction, but whatever it is, it flips a latch loose.
Beca releases Chloe's sweater and slides her hands under the baggy material to find purchase on the small of her back instead. Bending the leg on the outside of the couch, she digs her heel into the cushion below it and brings her knee in close until it's grazing Chloe's side. Then, before she can talk herself out of it, she rocks her hips, pressing herself against Chloe's leg.
She hadn't really been aware of her growing physical need, too caught up in her own thoughts, but the ache between her thighs becomes abruptly evident when it's placated. Her nails scratch lines down to Chloe's waist where she holds tight as the air whistles out of her.
The cold breeze of a sharp inhale sends goosebumps scattering across Beca's shoulders and then, after a moment of still silence, Chloe says, "Do it again."
The request invokes a tight, burning sensation in Beca's chest that is almost painful in its intensity and she closes her eyes, swallowing hard.
And then she moves, slow but purposeful, hard.
Three things happen at once.
Thing the first: That overwhelming feeling of pleasure, the one people chase until it explodes, shoots along Beca's spine, arching her back like she's attached to marionette strings.
Thing the second: Beca releases a sound that's too loud to be a moan but isn't quiet enough to be a whimper, brow gently furrowed.
And Thing the third: Chloe, face still buried close to Beca's ear, lets out a half-grunt, half-groan concoction that is filthy and raw, before she lifts one hand from the armrest and drags it along Beca's side until she can dig her fingers into the bone of her hip. And when Beca moves again, Chloe uses that hand to help Beca along. The angle is awkward and so she can't really pull at Beca like Beca can tell she wants to, but the intent is enough.
That Chloe wants to is enough and the little huff of annoyance that's blown out when Chloe realises she's not going to be able indulge herself in that way; all of it is indicative of the fact that Chloe wants her.
And that affects Beca just as much as Chloe guiding her stuttering hips with her hands would. Causes her to gasp and then groan, and then bite her lip to try and keep herself quiet as her mind shuts off and lets her body take over.
The tight cuffs of the sweatpants she's wearing ride up over her ankles as Chloe readjusts and Beca starts in on a slow rhythm, trying not to think too deeply about what's happening. Because she knows if that happens, she'll get scared, and then she'll stop.
And Beca doesn't want to stop.
Not now that addictive kind of heat has begun rolling over her in waves which creep higher every time Beca grinds against Chloe, whose teeth nip at her earlobe before she sucks it into her mouth and swirls her tongue across it.
Another spark of arousal joins the growing pool between her legs and she thinks it must be some kind of delicious cosmic torture that she's given relief and a growing need for more in the same instant. Small sounds of pleasure keep slipping free and she knows she needs to be quiet, but Chloe has her body wanting to cry out in a multitude of different ways.
"God, I want to hear you," Chloe confesses in a breathless whisper, moving her hand from Beca's hip and pushing it under the shirt Beca is wearing to curve around her ribs. Beca does let out a whimper then, low and needy, but still too quiet and Chloe grumbles her annoyance in a way that Beca would normally find cute if she wasn't currently being turned into molten liquid. Chloe's words adding more fuel to the fire whirl she'd been swept up into the very second Chloe started this.
Beca had never even done this as a dumb, horny teenager; this being dry humping on the living room couch. Or any piece of furniture for that matter. Isn't sure she'd ever really been dumb and horny and now here she is, decidedly not a teenager, chasing a climax that might never come but enjoying every step of the race regardless.
There's a newness here - a semi-newness maybe - upon which they should probably be treading lightly, but Beca knows it's been brought on because of that night in their hotel room. And, because of that, because of the weighted intensity of that shared moment and the ones that came after, this moment they've found themselves in now is much too heavy for feather-footing.
It presses her down into the cushions, pushes on her chest until all the air in her lungs is gone and she's left gasping soundlessly in the silence, despite wanting Chloe to hear her, too. Wants it because Chloe wants it. Wants her to know how good it feels.
But she can't say anything, not with the building pressure between her legs and the coil tightening low in her abdomen. Not with Chloe draped over her, her movements short and small, but thoroughly impactful. So, instead of saying anything, Beca grabs at Chloe with hands turned stupid with want, eventually slinging an arm across her shoulders and settling a hand at the back of Chloe's head. Not holding, just resting. Gripping lightly as Chloe leans back as far as she can to kiss Beca, but it isn't quite enough and Beca has to turn her head to meet Chloe halfway.
The kiss is a mess. Their teeth clack and there's a little too much tongue, and it's perfect, just like all the others. It wraps steel bands around Beca's chest and pulls and pulls until she's breaking the kiss with a remorseful, high-pitched huff that she exhales through her nose.
Chloe lingers, lips brushing gently against Beca's as she squeezes her hip and makes Beca jerk harder against her.
"Can…" a pause, then, warm and tremulous against her mouth, "Do you think you can? Like this?"
Normally, Beca would probably say no. Over the clothes stuff hasn't done much for her in the past, but she'd never felt like this then. Had never felt quite this close. Had never felt her underwear drag so slickly against her.
She whimpers, threading her fingers into Chloe's hair and nods, the action bumping their foreheads together. Chloe kisses her again, quick and excited, before she drops her head back into the crook of Beca's neck and kisses her there instead.
Chloe's breaths come sharper and shorter in time with Beca's and she can feel her own forehead beading with sweat, the distant disbelief that this is actually happening fading rapidly as she feels her body closing in on the finish line. She pushes herself towards it, determined and desperate as she clings to Chloe, fingers fisting in her hair and nails scratching across her shoulder blades over her sweater. And it's there, it's right there, she can feel it, but can't quite reach it. A whine of frustration slips free and then Chloe is audibly swallowing and tilting her head just enough to speak into Beca's ear again.
"Come on," Chloe urges, her voice a sandstorm of broken glass and swinging windchimes. "Come on, I know you can-"
Whatever she says after is lost to the blinding, deafening white light that explodes behind Beca's closed eyelids as she screws them more tightly shut. Her whole body grows taut, siezes, shakes, somehow holding together as she breaks apart, and she hangs there for an extended moment as the wave hits. Like someone's pressed pause on the world but things are still running in the background. Chloe is panting words into her neck but Beca's ears are filled with white-noise and the rush of the ocean.
Things resume with a strangled, almost startled gasp and Beca snaps, then sags, strength trickling from her in rivulets of molasses. She slips into a stupor, heavy and stupid, and tries to drop her hands from Chloe's hair, but her fingers remain caught. They're too locked in place and she's too pleasure-drunk to be able to figure which way to twist them loose. After a few seconds - minutes? - she's aided by Chloe, who lifts her head and, somehow, Beca's hands just fall free as Chloe shifts.
Eventually, Beca blinks open her eyes only to find the edges of her vision still dark. But slowly, things brighten, and when correct contrast has returned to the world, Chloe has lifted herself up on her arms and is looking down at Beca, her expression unusually unreadable for a few heartbeats.
But then she bites her lip to stifle a smile - which doesn't work, it only grows around the snare, creeping like ivy - and there's a sparkle in her eye that Beca likes the look of. She stretches easily half across Beca once more, burying bursts of giggly laughter into her shoulder while Beca tries to remember the correct rhythm for normal breathing.
"That was awesome." Chloe sounds a bit like she's just come in out of the cold, tucking herself into Beca's side and carelessly tossing an arm across her midsection.
Beca huffs a laugh. It was certainly something, she thinks, welcoming the weight of Chloe's arm around her. Lets it hold her down, keep her from floating away.
And there are words, things she wants to say, wants to ask, as always.
You're awesome.
What are you trying to do to me?
Do you feel that?
What does this mean?
Chloe is idly running her pointer finger up and down the ladder of Beca's ribs when she asks, "Was that okay?" Timid, maybe a little bit afraid. Not wanting to show it but needing to know.
Beca shrugs the shoulder Chloe has her temple pressed to, jostling her head until she looks up.
"I would have stopped you if it wasn't." Beca holds her gaze, makes sure she sees the serenity of belief in Chloe's eyes.
"Okay." Chloe nods, seemingly to herself. "Good." She lets her head loll back into place and Beca remains quiet, sensing that there's more. Seconds tick by and, eventually, Chloe releases a sigh but all she says is, "We should probably get up."
It's not that she's wrong; it's just Beca knows that isn't what Chloe had intended to say. She could practically feel the sharp left turn in the air as Chloe veered off path at the last second. She's not going to question it, though. It's late, they're both tired - Beca arguably more so - and whatever conversation Chloe's first thought might have enticed can wait until her brain isn't so foggy.
Chloe peels herself away from Beca, glancing around as she half sits up and pushes messy curls around in an attempt to tame them a little.
"Now you want to get up?" Beca sweeps her tongue across the front of her teeth to convey annoyance and then frowns. Chloe's face is innocently blank, maybe a little confused, right up until Beca says, "Dude, I don't think I can stand."
Chloe lets out a snort of laughter that's too loud and quickly slaps a hand over her mouth. She rolls her eyes at Beca and then shoves her legs out of the way so that she can get to her feet. She looks down at a still reclining Beca, mimicking a, "Dude," and shaking her head with a rueful smile.
"What?" Beca snips, but there's no bite to it and, besides, she already knows.
"Nothing." Chloe pauses and purses her lips, thinking. Then, eyes glittering in the dim light, "I cannot believe you just let me get you off in the middle of the living room."
Heat floods Beca's cheeks but there isn't really a sense of embarrassment. Perhaps it's just turned warm all of a sudden.
"Yeah, well…." she lets her muttering trail off and pointedly avoids looking directly at Chloe's smugly impressed expression, but takes the proffered hand and allows Chloe to help her up.
Once she's vertical, Beca takes stock of how close they're standing. The urge to step backwards is overridden by the knowledge that, if she does, she'll just end up sprawled across the couch again and embarrassment might actually rear its head then. So, she settles for swallowing hard as privately as she can and keeps her spine ramrod straight in order to stop herself from leaning in.
"Think you can manage the stairs?" Chloe says lowly, lips that Beca is most certainly not looking at curling up into a smirk. "Or do you need me to carry you?"
The thing is, Chloe probably could carry her. Right up both flights of stairs and across her room, throw her onto the bed and-
"I'm fine." Beca's tone is stern, borderline agitated, but she isn't faking it well enough to faze Chloe, who simply hums and takes one step away from Beca, dragging her eyes down the length of her body and then back up, smirk growing.
"Yep," she chirps, happily. "Checks out." Then she's rocking back in towards Beca and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Goodnight."
With one last look and a smile that is more subdued, Chloe leaves.
It's only when she hears Chloe's footsteps creak across the landing that Beca comes alive again, blowing out a breath and bending forward at the waist with her hands on her hips. She squeezes her eyes closed and takes a deep breath in through her nose.
"Fuck."
She'd made it to bed unscathed, though somewhat traumatised after Lilly materialised out of thin air while Beca was walking to the stairs. She'd almost screamed and Lilly had just blinked at her with those huge, wide eyes as Beca, clutching at her t-shirt overtop of where her heart was pounding, demanded to know where she'd been this whole time.
Lilly had whispered something about a goodbye party with her friends in the basement and Beca had fled without asking for further explanation, neither wanting nor needing it.
And if she'd pulled the covers up to her chin as she lay in bed that night, who could really blame her?
When she wakes the next morning, the covers have been kicked down towards the end of the bed and she's tangled in the sheet. She spends an entirely too long thirty seconds trying to wrestle her way out of her own bed, swearing the entire time and threatening scissors before freeing herself and beginning her day.
It's a day that will see the departure of the remaining Bellas, minus Chloe and herself. It's also Chloe's last day with Beca before she hops a plane to Tampa, and disappears, physically at least, from her life for the next who knows how long. The anxiety that brings about, the sickly feeling of dread, follows her from bed to breakfast table, and she's fairly certain it's going to be nipping at her heels until Chloe has actually left.
Amy is, surprisingly, home, sitting at the table beside Lilly.
"I didn't hear you come in." Beca says, glancing over to where Stacie is scrambling eggs on the stovetop.
"That's because it was about five minutes ago." Amy looks pleased with herself and Beca finds that she's rushing to fill the immediate silence in case Amy decides to regale them with stories of her night.
"Do you just come back here to eat?" Beca sits down at the table and throws Amy a look of feigned concern. "Does Bumper not feed you?"
"Maybe I want to enjoy a nice last breakfast with what's left of my a capella family." Amy sounds affronted but Beca doesn't so much as blink at her, unconvinced, and after a few moments of intense eye contact Amy adds, "And Bumper only had two cucumbers and an expired package of cold cuts in his fridge."
"The truth will out." Spoken like a Shakespearean sage, Stacie holds up the spatula she's using for added emphasis.
"Who's coming out?" Chloe's question comes as she strolls into the kitchen, eyes immediately searching for and finding Beca before moving to alight on the kettle. The contact is fleeting, but Beca feels it deep in her bones. It's like the strike of a matchstick; a quick flare of fire that eats up a chunk of the oxygen in the room.
"Amy's guilty conscience." Stacie uses the tip of the spatula to cut up the bigger chunks of egg in the pan and turns the appropriate dial to switch the burner off.
Chloe reaches into a cupboard to procure herself a teabag, humming aloud and sidling up next to Stacie as the water starts to boil. Then, to Amy, she says, "I didn't know you had one of those."
"I don't normally." Amy bites off one corner of a piece of toast she's taken from a plate in the middle of the table, one Beca only realises in that moment is there at all. "It's a bit like eczema? Flares up now and again, irritates my tits off, and then gets lost."
Stacie dishes everyone a plate, leaving one on the counter for Chloe who remains to wait for the kettle while the rest of them start eating. Stacie is usually a self-proclaimed disaster in the kitchen, but she can cook eggs and manages to make toast without burning it too badly, and so the Bellas have shared this exact meal numerous times over the years.
Amy puts ketchup on her eggs, Stacie hot sauce. Lilly adds syrup, which Beca doesn't even know where to begin with, while Beca herself sticks with a pinch of salt and Chloe doesn't usually add anything at all. Maybe some jam on her toast - always blackberry, Beca had noted not long after moving into the Bella house - but otherwise, she eats it all as is.
"What time are you leaving?" Beca asks Stacie, then glances to her right as Chloe fills the empty spot next to her, smiling a little at the overexaggerated pout on the redhead's face.
"Never?" Chloe offers with a hopeful grumble and Stacie pushes herself into a half-standing position, then reaches across the table with both hands to cradle Chloe's face. Without further warning or preamble, she gently urges Chloe up out of her own seat and when she's within reach, Stacie plants a kiss on Chloe's lips.
"Gotta love you and leave you, babe." She presses in again, mouth closed and firm, leaving one last kiss before sitting back down. "But you've got my number." She winks at Chloe, who plops onto her seat with a laugh and, as Beca watches, swipes her tongue first across her bottom lip, then her upper.
"You're sticky," Chloe chastises, but she's still smiling.
Amy coughs, once, loud, then quickly chases it with a, "Gay." At which Stacie abruptly turns and reaches for Amy, mouth puckered and ready for another kiss as she edges towards her. "No, no! Get your lezzie lips away from me! Beca, help! Tell her!"
No one helps, of course, and it ends with Amy toppling wide-eyed to the kitchen floor, hands slapping through the air directly in front of her and knees coming up to ward off an attack. Stacie manages to avoid getting smacked and ends up sitting astride Amy, one long leg on either side of her body. She reigns kisses down over Amy's face while Amy bellows for her B.U. whistle and the rest of them look on.
"Should we-" Chloe begins, but Beca cuts in, a grin spreading across her face as she watches the madness unfold.
"Nope."
Off to the side, Lilly has perched herself practically on top of the breakfast table in order to watch, eyes wide and a little manic. A small smile tugging at her mouth, suggesting something sinister or, at the very least, menacing. Like she's about to leap into the fray.
Amy is still screaming.
Beca laughs and closes her lips around a mouthful of cold eggs.
Breakfast is never going to be the same.
The day is lazy and easy, with not one of them having anywhere else they need to be until late afternoon. So, they spend it much as they had the previous evening; lounging about, talking.
Beca had beelined for one of the armchairs and then made the mistake of glancing over at Chloe, who apparently had no problem taking up the couch again, only to be met with a wicked grin that, along with the memory of the night before, has Beca's insides starting to liquify. She'd tucked her legs underneath herself and managed to keep her attention trained away from Chloe for an admirable ten minutes before breaking. Luckily, Chloe had been laughing at Amy at the time and hadn't noticed.
Unluckily, Chloe is very pretty when she laughs.
The hours tick by and that heavy sense of inevitability starts to weigh everything down. Part of Beca feels guilty for it, but she finds herself trying to focus on the fact that it isn't Chloe who's leaving, not just yet. Which isn't to say that the departure of the others is going to be easy, it isn't. It's going to suck as much as it had the day before, but if she just keeps reminding herself that she still has Chloe, still has a numbered amount of hours with her, it makes saying goodbye to Stacie and Lilly that little bit easier.
When the time comes, they all help Stacie carry boxes to her car. Well, everyone except Amy, who is absolutely certain that her back was somehow damaged during Stacie's attack that morning and so she sits out on the stoop while they trudge by.
"You're not far, right?" Beca's glassy eyes move beneath a furrowed brow, passing over each window of the car like she's making sure everything in there is safe. Which, well, she is.
"My parents live like seventy miles from here." Stacie slams the trunk as hard as she can, finally getting it to latch. "I'm just gonna move back in with them until I make a final decision on the next phase of my life." Stacie has already told them this, but Beca is glad for the confirmation.
"You sound like a hippy shaman," Amy calls from her place by the door.
"Maybe that's my true calling."
"Nah," Amy shakes her head. "Definitely stripper. You'd be doing yourself, nay, the world, a disservice to do anything else."
"Love you, too, Ames!" Stacie blows her a kiss before stepping in to pull Beca into a hug. "Deejay Bee," she coos, wrapping her arms around Beca's head just because she can. Beca feels herself begin to tear up, but thankfully, Stacie doesn't say anything else. She eases back out of the hug, settling Beca with a look before moving over to give Chloe similar treatment. "I'll text you guys when I get there."
Lilly stands next to the car, eyeing both Beca and Chloe with something like wild wonder. Then she's darting over to them, dropping a kiss onto the top of Beca's head and pinching Chloe's cheeks. She smiles widely afterwards and picks up the single duffle bag she's taking with her. Stacie had offered to drive Lilly to the bus station and if it were anyone else, Beca might be worried about them travelling alone, but she's pretty sure Lilly can handle herself. And at least two or three fully grown men. She opens the passenger side door and tosses the bag in at the foot of the seat before getting in. Stacie turns the key in the ignition and music blares to life along with the engine. She lowers the window on Lilly's side and yells across her.
"Later, 'gators!" And with a final wave, Stacie screeches away from the curb and the Bella house.
"And then there were three," Chloe sighs, once Stacie is out of sight. She turns, arms folded across her chest to stave off the sudden chilly breeze that's slipped in with the evening. Beca offers her a sad smile and they turn in unison to head back inside.
"Two, actually." Amy is standing in the doorway, effectively blocking them from reentering. "I'm going to stay at Bumper's for a while. Until I make a final decision on the next phase of my life."
Beca snorts.
"Kind of assumed you'd already moved in with him. Except for the fact that all of your stuff is still here," Beca points out, narrowing her eyes. Amy hums, slipping on a mask of innocence as she tells Beca that she'll pick everything up later. Beca slips by and makes her way into the house with Chloe following close behind, while Amy lingers on the porch, informing them that Bumper is probably already on his way to pick her up.
"Well, last night." Amy's observation is pointless and only serves to unsettle the wall Beca that has temporarily built between herself and reality. "Special plans? Or is it another evening on the couch?"
The manner in which it's asked isn't even remotely suggestive, but the question sends Beca's mind right back to the night before, right into the gutter, and she chokes on her own saliva mid-swallow, coughing a handful of times. She can feel Chloe's hand against her back, patting her gently between the shoulder blades in an attempt to help.
It isn't helping.
"Mm," Chloe's hum, however, is definitely somewhat suggestive and it also isn't helping. "What," she pauses under the pretense of breathing but when she picks up her words again they're lower, the tone of them tweaked ever so slightly, "do you feel like, Bec?"
Flush with heat, Beca shoots Chloe a glare.
"I guess we still have time to decide," Chloe sighs, airily, entirely unaffected, and that's when they see Bumper pull up outside. They say their goodbyes to Amy and awkwardly return Bumper's way too friendly and enthusiastic wave before Beca turns to move further into the house as Chloe shuts the door.
"You," Beca gripes, glancing over her shoulder as she walks into the kitchen, "are mean."
Chloe's mouth splits into a grin and she throws her head back with a laugh that wipes the grumpiness from Beca's face.
Beca retrieves a bottle of water from the fridge and offers one to Chloe who declines, only to snatch Beca's out of her hand after she's taken one long pull.
And it's as Beca is watching Chloe drink her water that she registers how quiet the house is. It's eerie, almost, a bit unnatural, just plain weird not hearing someone yelling or singing. Sadness picks at her again as she goes back over the goodbyes she's had to endure over the last few days, whittling their group down one by one, until the only people left are her and Chloe. Who, while happy for the remaining time still lingering between them, they're also sad, a little heartbroken.
And, Beca realises with the sudden clarity of a person waking after a long restful sleep, they are utterly alone.